


set me free

by veniyuri



Series: butterfly effect [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Artist!Minseok, M/M, aka hhb's real happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22618603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veniyuri/pseuds/veniyuri
Summary: Minseok has everything an artist needs, except a muse.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Series: butterfly effect [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624495
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	set me free

**Author's Note:**

> this is technically an extra for hush hush baby, and I think the effect is more prominent if you've read that first, but since the warnings on it are kind of scary I think it still works okay as a standalone too

“I need a muse.”

Kyungsoo whacks him in the head with a magazine.

“You need a nap.”

Minseok’s attempts to get revenge by swiping the rolled up weapon from his fake friend, but all he accomplishes is overshooting his reach and knocking his own balance to pieces. Falling ungracefully from his chair, Minseok’s shoulders sag and he doesn’t even try to get up from the floor. Luckily there wasn’t a class before this, so there’s no risk of wet paint staining his clothes. Just the usual underfoot germs and general grime of classroom tiles.

“At least find a bed to sleep in. What will you do if you fuck up your posture and can’t sit in front of an easel without a recliner?”

Kyungsoo’s suggestion isn’t actually that bad. The recliner one and the bed one, honestly. But Minseok is going through a crisis.

“A muse would help me off the floor,” Minseok whines, and he almost expects a foot to his face when his friend looms over him.

“A _muse_ only exists in your dreams. And the Greek myth classes you take.” Kyungsoo looks like he’s seriously contemplating stepping on Minseok’s face now, but by some grace of an inattentive god, he simply starts walking away. Minseok chooses then to pick himself up, but only to sit straight and make a point.

“Not true! F. Scott Fitgerald _adored_ his muse of a wife!” He hops to his feet, dusts off his clothes briefly before deciding whatever was on the floor shouldn’t get on his hands too, and gathers his essentials before chasing after Kyungsoo—sketchbook, brushes, palette, pencils. His friend literally does not wait for him, and he’s slightly out of breath when he finally does fall in stride.

“Learned that one in literature class. Muses are everywhere, and I need one.”

Kyungsoo looks at him, and Minseok pretends it’s one of his unintentional “I can’t see without my glasses so I’m squint-glaring” glares and not an on purpose one. He’s usually right about this half percent of the time.

“You want a woman to fawn over and draw countless portraits of that she’ll never match up to? That’s what you imply when you talk about Fitzgerald.” Leave it to Kyungsoo to ruin his metaphor.

“She could be a woman, or a man! Or anyone in between, I’m not picky as long as they inspire me.”

Kyungsoo chooses a certain point in conversations to stop talking, and this might be it as he powers forward and Minseok almost jogs to match pace.

“You just don’t understand, Kyungsoo,” Minseok goes on. He’ll take the chance to talk if he must, because someone other than his unfinished works needs to hear his woes. “I finally figured out what I’m missing as an artist. It’s like—” Minseok waves his hands in abstract air shapes, none of which Kyungsoo turns to look at. “Dominos. Or dynamite. I have this whole course in my head, a big explosion just waiting to happen; I can practically imagine the results even now. Except without that first push, without the spark, it’s only ever going to be the dull outline of what could have been. That’s what I’ve been painting so far.”

“How many hours of sleep have you gotten in the past 48 hours?” Kyungsoo asks suddenly. Minseok has to pause to calculate.

“Like… eight? If I’m generous. But that’s not counting the random naps I accidentally took inbetween.”

Kyungsoo halts, and Minseok nearly walks past him.

“Exactly. You need a nap more than a muse.” He looks like he’s about to make a weapon and try and literally knock the sense into Minseok, so Minseok guards his forehead and shuffles away. Kyungsoo just watches him.

When the danger passes, Minseok sighs and drops his arms.

“You know that’s not true. I have my exhibit coming up, and I’m not satisfied with any of the pieces I have planned out.”

As an artist, young and budding, Minseok has almost everything he could want: a decent social life, enough money for art supplies, a part time job at a craft store (which helps with the art supplies budgeting), and recognition from his professors that he deserves a showcase of his own for his senior year. But as Minseok’s parting gift to his beloved university, he’d gotten it into his head that he wants this to be special. Unlike anything he’s ever done. The ideas are _there_ , the feeling is brewing in him, but no matter how he lets it out it doesn’t reflect what’s really in his heart.

None of the material fixes he came up with helped, and that’s how he concluded what he’s missing has nothing to do with his tools at all. He needs a muse to complete his showcase, the linchpin of it all. Once he gets that, everything will fall into place as it should; it’s like dominos, with the effect of dynamite.

Kyungsoo doesn’t get it. He’s not on the artist side; he’s on the “tell Minseok everything wrong with his work” side, critiquing Minseok harder than his professors do.

Fundamentally Minseok is thankful that he has someone reliable to provide an outsider perspective on his art. Emotionally, he thinks Kyungsoo is just sick and likes to take every opportunity to use his academic vocabulary to roast Minseok in a way he understands too well.

“I’m this way,” Kyungsoo announces suddenly, and it’s not the way Minseok is going.

“Ah, see you later then!” Minseok waves, and Kyungsoo puts up his hand in the saddest reciprocation Minseok has ever seen. The last was Kyungsoo’s previous goodbye to him.

“Maybe your muse will fall from the sky.”

And with those encouraging words, his fake best friend heads off to do who knows what. Maybe crush someone else’s hopes.

With no other pressing duties until later in the evening, Minseok has adequate time to twiddle his thumbs. Maybe sketch a bit, keep his creative side active, add color if he feels like it and has the time.

He’s not paying attention as he walks aimlessly, and when his foot catches on something everything in his arms goes flying. Before the pain of the ground shoots through his body, the pain in his heart at what’s to come hits him first.

If any of his supplies get wrecked, they’re going to be a bitch to replace, employee discount or not.

Luckily his face is spared, even if he can’t say the same for his elbows, but the thing underneath him feels a lot thicker than a tree root should. 

Probably because it’s a person.

“If any of my pencils snapped or my watercolors crack—” The threat is ready to roll off his tongue and assault whoever might have cost him his next paycheck, except he makes the mistake of turning to look at his offender and freezing.

Sleepy eyes blink awake at him, and Minseok can’t place why, but he doesn’t want to look away. The stranger seems to focus on his face, and a similar sort of shock slackens his expression.

“I found you,” Minseok breathes, and for a second it feels like someone else is speaking through him. But he brushes it off, because _he’s found him._ Brightening considerably and straightening up, ignoring his throbbing elbows and possibly ruined supplies, Minseok grabs the stranger’s hand with both of his.

“You’re my muse,” he says, and he tightens his grip while the other still looks like he’s not quite awake. “The inspiration, I _feel_ it. I told Kyungsoo I was right; you’re exactly what my exhibition is missing. Let me paint you—or paint beside you, we can work our way up.”

He hasn’t let the other man get a single response in, but now after his barrage Minseok is eager for a reply. Anything.

The stranger looks down at their hands, then at Minseok’s face again.

“Kyungsoo… like Do Kyungsoo?”

Minseok blinks. Of everything he said, that is possibly the last thing he expects anyone to focus on.

“Yeah, he’s my friend. Sort of.” Sometimes he’s fake, after all.

“He calls me a vampire.”

Well that’s… new. But Minseok can work with that.

“I don’t really do Catholic imagery, and you won’t need a mirror since I’ll be the one looking at you. Garlic shouldn’t be an issue either, but we can work around the specifics.” His muse could say he’s an alien for all Minseok cares. With this man finally in his life, the world is at his fingertips.

“If that doesn’t bother you, then sure, you can paint me.”

Minseok positively beams, and his new official muse cracks a smile too.

“I’m Kim Jongin.”

“Kim Minseok. I look forward to working with you—but by the way,” Minseok lets go of Jongin to instead clap his hands together and look as sheepish as possible. “My deadline is in a week, can you share your schedule with me?”

* * *

“Why does Kyungsoo call you a vampire?”

“He never sees me awake at normal times. I sleep in class a lot, and he finds me on my night walks sometimes.”

“That’s a lot more boring than I thought.”

“Oh. Sorry?”

“It’s fine. More importantly, hold this rose. I was inspired by gothic aesthetic to try and include it, but the image isn’t coming together.”

“Should I play dead with it?”

“No no, that’s not the point of this exhibit. I want to leave behind happy memories of my time here. Those are the kind that should be passed on. Try… this.”

“Behind my ear? It doesn’t look weird?”

“Not at all. It’s exactly what I want. Now just… look at me and smile. Like… like I’m your crush or something.”

“...okay.”

“ _Perfect_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shockingly I wrote this pretty fast but probably because there's really no plot besides They Find Each Other so rest assured!! Xiukai found each other again and lived very happily! I also personally enjoy the theory of souls going through cycles, and the last of which being living out a happy and fulfilling life as a reward for all the labors of past lives, so this is Xiukai's reward where they have all the life they could ask for between them.
> 
> I also got more inspiration for another story in this verse that's from Jongin's pov and goes more into his background and then overlaps with the events of hhb, but that's a bigger project than this so who knows when I'll be able to post it but that's the only reason butterfly effect won't be complete just yet.
> 
> as always xiukai nation thrive and thank you for reading!! I hope this makes some people feel better after the ending of hhb too, since like i said i'm really a sucker for happy endings so this is how they were meant to be all along *^*


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